Yo, ho A Pirate's Life for Me
by Rosewood of Brazil
Summary: Oneshot of our favourite pirate waking up after a night of frivolities. Originally a piece of English c/w I got an A* in, so I wanted to know if I should make it into a story. Mini bit of Mr Gibbs in 'ere. Birthday prez for TheTemporalSchismIsMyBedroom


**A.N:  
This was originally a story I was doing for English coursework and I got an A* in it so I wanted to know what people thought of it : ) In my coursework Mr Gibbs was called Mr Grey so I wouldn't get told of for plagiarism. Just to let you know :P And my English teacher is such a dummy that they didn't pick up on all the little quotes I put in!  
Anyone think I should make a little story of this?**

**Enjoy!**

The bedraggled pirate awoke with a start at the sound of a parrot cawing overhead. His bloodshot, russet eyes blinked several times, adjusting to the sunlight filtering down through the palm trees that he hadn't seen since six 'o' clock the evening previous, which was roughly about the time when his pirating frivolities began. Although, said frivolities weren't those that were generally becoming of a 'bloodthirsty' pirate and his crew; he wondered what the effects of excessive rum drinking until the early hours of the morning would have on his authority. _'No doubt they'll be practically worshiping me for giving them free reign,' _he thought conceitedly, ignoring the niggling fact that told him about their eagerness to partake in some good old fashioned pirating as a replacement for the past three weeks of drinking themselves silly at every port they arrived in.

The pirate heaved himself to his feet, staggering slightly on the sand as a consequence of the previous night. He finally regained his balance and breathed in the refreshing sea air, squeezing his toes in the sand. The pirate frowned and then looked at his feet. Where were his boots? The pirate cursed as he realized the damage that had come from drinking himself into a stupor; his boots, doublet coat and his belt – complete with cutlass and pistol – were all missing from his person, leaving him only in tatty grey breeches and a dirty white puffed sleeved shirt. The pirate cursed again in fury, much louder this time. A gasp came from the bushes behind him. He spun round and saw a small, young girl with ringlets in her hair staring at him in terror with a tri corned hat in her hands.

"Hat," the pirate growled gruffly, snatching it from her person. The girl ran off screaming in terror, her corseted dress slowing her down considerably. The pirate merely watched in amusement as he dusted off his hat, placing it on his long tangled hair. He couldn't live without his hat. He wasn't sure why, but he knew that he couldn't.

The pirate sighed and started walking in the general direction of the port where his ship and his crew would be faithfully waiting for him to return – their glorious leader. The pirate had waited a long time to finally obtain the status of Captain, and now that he had achieved that goal, he was determined to enjoy it to the fullest. Mainly by throwing his weight around simply because he could. Although it was time for that to stop now and get down to the serious business of classic pirating; raids, pillaging and plundering is what he had planned for the crew in the upcoming weeks, but it wasn't because he desired to. In reality he couldn't actually be bothered to wreak havoc around the West Indies and he was quite content to simply sail around drinking at every port he could find, but he thought it would be wise to do so, to appease the crew at least. He was starting to get the feeling that there was the tiniest hint of resentment emanating from the crew towards him.

The pirate smiled to himself as he left the sand of the beach and strode through the tropical foliage of the Caribbean, the vivid gamut of colours instilling happiness in his person as it always did. He loved simply admiring the beauty of nature around him, primarily because he knew how lucky he was to be looking at it and not swinging from the gallows, a fate many of his old companions had encountered and one he had been lucky enough to escape from. Twice.

A small rustling came from the branches of the tree in front of him. The pirate stood statue still, hoping desperately that it would be an animal and not some sort of native cannibal looking for breakfast. He had had enough of those to last a lifetime. The pirate sighed with relief when a small monkey dropped to the floor. He hit himself internally; he really must have drunk a lot if he thought cannibals were running around Nassau. It was far too far north for those.

The monkey chattered in a cute manner, almost provoking a smile from the 'hardened' pirate who stood there, somewhat enthralled by the small primate. He watched curiously as the monkey moved towards him, an odd glint in its eye as it eyed up the tanned, slight but muscular man in front of it.

"Alright little fella?" the pirate said in a somewhat slurred manner, bending down and stretching out his arm to the small animal. "What the—!"

The monkey bounded up the pirate's arm and grabbed his hat, blithely jumping onto a nearby tree.

"COME BACK 'ERE YOU BLOODY MONKEY!" the pirate bellowed, springing to his feet.

The monkey chattered almost mockingly from his vantage point on the top most branch of the palm tree, playfully throwing the hat up and down.

The pirate cursed again, trying to clamber up the tree after the troublesome primate, to no avail. He muttered angrily to himself and began picking up small stones off the floor, flinging them at the monkey aimlessly. He shouted several curses at the monkey who remained unharmed, sitting down on the floor abruptly in the fashion of a small child having a tantrum. His eyes wandered across the floor, looking for larger projectiles.

"Coconut," he said happily to himself, scrabbling across the ground to the fallen fruit. A wicked glint appeared in his eye as he picked it up, tossing it slightly to check its weight. He took aim and threw the coconut as accurately as a hung-over incompetent possibly could. He smiled grimly as the coconut met its target with a satisfying crack. The monkey fell out of the tree and landed with a thud on the floor, a small cloud of dust rising from the ground. The pirate staggered over to the monkey and retrieved his hat.

"_My_ hat," he said childishly.

"Cap'n!" a man cried.

The pirate jumped and turned around to find a stout, haggard man emerging from the bushes, bright red in the face.

"Mr Gibbs!" the pirate said cheerfully.

"Cap'n!" he wheezed. "Port," he gasped. "Port—"

"No thanks actually, I prefer rum."

"No, _port_! We need to get to—" he gasped again. "Port!"

"Oh? And what is the reason to hasten to said port?" the pirate asked curiously, adjusting his hat.

"The ship!" he said breathlessly. "The crew!"

"What about 'em?"

"You need to see!" Mr Gibbs said urgently, grabbing the pirate by the arm. The pirate followed his insistent first mate, inquisitive to know what could have roused such a reaction from the usually passive man.

The pirate started to hum gaily to his self as they briskly walked out of the tropical vegetation and emerged onto a cobbled road with a wooden signpost.

Nassau Port this way  
Pirates beware!

'_Like that's _really_ goin' to stop us," _the pirate thought to himself sardonically.

"This way Cap'n!" Mr Gibbs said, leading the pirate down the road to the wharf.

"Mr Gibbs, may I enquire as to what possessed you to drag me from my very important business to see my crew and ship? I'm not goin' to forget where I left 'em!" the pirate laughed mockingly at him.

"Really?" Mr Gibbs asked sarcastically. "Take a look around," he said, gesturing to the surrounding ships.

The pirate looked around at the ships, checking for his reliable transport. "Mr Gibbs?" he asked dangerously.

"Yes Cap'n?"

"Would you be so kind as to inform me _where _on earth is my ship?!" he shouted at the aging man.

"Well, that's what I was trying to say. Last night while you were—" he looked cautiously at his captain. "—socialising, there was what you could call, a mutiny."

"A mutiny?" the pirate asked disbelievingly.

"Yes, it's when—"

"I know what a blasted mutiny is Gibbs!" he barked at him. "What I want to know, is _why_, Mr Gibbs, _why_! _Why_ am I now a mutinee?!"

"Well Cap'n, it was mostly because of your . . . let's say, lack of leadership skills," he replied, trying not to laugh at his incorrect English.

The pirate looked at him disbelievingly.

"Some of the crew were starting to feel that your captaining left a lot to be desired," he said tentatively.

The pirate started to shake in rage.

"But you can always look at it this way Cap'n; now you can start being a proper pirate again or you could just travel. Imagine the possibilities! You could go to Europe, or maybe Singapore, you wouldn't have got to go there if you were Captain, would you? You're completely free from responsibilities now so—"

"Yes, yes Mr Gibbs, that's all well and good, but all of this pales to utter insignificance in light of the fact, that my ship is now gone! Savvy? And I didn't mind the responsibilities you know."

"But you never did anything about them," My Gibbs said, looking confused.

"Precisely. I just liked to wave at them as they passed by onto somebody else," the pirate grinned.

". . . Right. But in all seriousness Cap'n, what are you going to do now? There's no way we can get the . . . er. . . the . . . ol' what's-her-face back," Mr Grey said, unbelievably forgetting the name of the ship he had been travelling on for the past six months.

"The Dolly Belle. And I will be getting it back, don't you worry about that," the pirate said, stalking off to the end of a jetty.

"What? How on earth are ya' goin' to do that Cap'n? They left hours ago!" Mr Gibbs said incredulously.

"_We_ are going to get the ship back, by commandeering another one," the pirate said, picking up a telescope and looking out at the incoming ships.

"We're going to _commandeer_ a ship?" Gibbs asked doubtfully.

"Nautical term. Not as bad as it sounds," the pirate said, taking the flask on Mr Gibbs' hip and drinking from it. The pirate sighed. "Why is the rum always gone?" he asked disheartened, staggering on the spot.

Mr Gibbs gestured to the pirate's unsure feet.

"Oh. That's why."


End file.
